DM Doug - May 23 - 2016

Connections - The Vanguard of Argus

 

Nicholas felt  its power tugging at his imagination while he read from a thick tome in his richly appointed private chambers. He had been having a hard time concentrating all that morning, with an intangible itch in the back of his mind. Now the itch was getting more intense - more demanding. In his mind’s eye, quite suddenly, Nicholas saw a flash of deepest and pure blackness, at once repulsive to him and at the same time compelling him with its immense depth. With a shudder through his body, Nicholas put down his book and knew that he must examine the artifact kept below.

 

He made his way through the corridors, absent mindedly greeting those he passed without really being aware of more than putting one foot in front of the other. If he was right, this was much different than the last time the chalice “Spoke” to him, much more subtle. He had hardly had time to learn the ways of this ancient holy chalice since its recent awakening – it was clearly the one in charge and he would have to rely on his prayers to wise Tyr to guide him forward. Soon he was passing through the Nave and down the corridor into the chamber of the Chalice.

 

Entering the holy shrine, he noticed an acolyte studying a papyrus in the room, who turned to greet him. The chalice was quiet and had no obvious effect on its environment; in fact the reaction of the acolyte told him the font had not acted in any way other than its usual inert way. Perhaps it was all in his imagination after all…. But he knew he would have to check to be sure. Smiling paternally to the young cleric, he gathered himself for an unknown potential reaction from the ancient device.

 

Approaching the Chalice of Orachulum, Nicholas gingerly put forward his hand and lightly touched the golden surface of the gem studded bowl – his finger tracing a line of a faintly glowing, golden light trail. The chalice was very warm to the touch and he pulled his hand back automatically and watched the slight glow where he touched the chalice dissipate quickly. It had not done this before. He squared his shoulders and reached out both hands and held them against the underside of the bowl of the font, and looked deeply into the holy waters, which were beginning to glow their golden light from deep within its slightly swirling depths. The swirling light pulled Nicholas deeper and deeper until with a final twist of vertigo, he was lost in their inescapable depths.

 

FLASH!

 

He found himself in a nicely appointed bed chamber, the glow from a crackling hearth shining soft light on the scene. Through a window, Selûne and her tears could be seen shining through a slightly cloudy night sky. A portly man lay beneath piled covers, lightly snoring in contentment. The scene was more real than real – as if Nicholas were standing there himself. Every grain in the wood, every thread in the man’s blankets - was all in vivid detail.

 

FLASH!

 

Nicholas was outside within a walled compound. Somehow he knew the sleeping man was in a high chamber of the manor house before him. Standing in the chilly night air he felt the cold of winter cutting through his body as he noticed a dark shadow perched upon the compound wall. Standing directly below the figure were two liveried guards, with morion helms and pikes. Silently, like a shadow peeling off the night air, the figure was among the guards, his body moving with preternatural speed and grace as clawed hands struck from his shrouded form to take the throats of the sentries. The killer slowly lowered the bodies to the ground and the cowled head cocked slightly, as if it is trying to orient itself, scanning the courtyard.

 

Although human in form, the being moved with an almost feral quality - hunched over, its robed arms stretched wide as it took a few steps forward. Nothing but darkness was revealed beneath its hood. Suddenly its head snapped upward toward a softly lit window on the second floor of the manor. With a bounding leap, the shadowy form silently and with inhuman speed crawled up the wall to a terrace looking into the room.

 

FLASH!

 

Nicholas felt himself pulling backwards towards the golden light and fought against this urge. Using his force of will he lunged and pushed against the tide, willing this vision to show him more…to bring him back into the man’s bedchamber. It was working! …. If only he could …..

 

FLASH!

 

Nicholas appeared in the man’s bedchamber again, he was watching the scene unfold before him once more. The dark form slowly crept across the room to the bed, the shadows of its form seeming to pull what little light there was in the room into itself, growing the shadows across every surface. As Nicholas watched, the entity reached the large oak bed and its feral body leaned over the man. With a quick action, the claws of the thing drew quickly across the man’s throat, coming within an inch of touching his skin.

 

The creature chuckled a horrible sound from beneath its cowl and it said with a low voice like creaking leather “Oh no… that fate is not for you. With you I shall play” he rasped. With telekinetic shadow force a dark band of shadow slammed into the man and thrust him upwards across the headboard and up against the wall near the ceiling. The man’s eyes shot open in wide eyed terror, his mouth working furiously to rasp out a sound, any sound, which resulted in only a strangled gurgling.

 

Nicholas could imagine the sadistic grin the creature must be displaying as it dragged one talon down the obese man’s torso several times, cutting through layers of skin and fat, just shy of spilling the man’s entrails upon the bed. The man squirmed such as he could and gurgled even louder, his head banging against the wall. The shadow creature began using the gushing blood as his ink and the wall beside the man as his canvas. The creature’s swift hands worked quickly moving between the man’s ripped torso and the wall as a familiar icon began to appear. Drawn in the affluent man’s blood was a stylized version of the Purple Dragon of Cormyr.

 

Tears streamed down the fat man’s face as the shadowed one stepped down from the bed to admire his bloody work. Nicholas could see several deep cuts running vertically down the torso and belly of the large man, looking like an over ripe fruit ready to burst, blood drenched his pillow and bed sheets. The evil entity turned back towards the hovering terrified man. “You have done very well, mon cheri” it rasped with mock earnestness. “What’s that? You want me to end this? Perhaps just rip out your soft throat, s'il vous plaît?” he mocked.  After a short pause he whispered “Where would the fun be in that?”

 

The hunched form moved back to the door to the terrace saying “Ahh, right on time. They will get to enjoy the show.” The sound of rushing footsteps could be heard from the door leading deeper into the house. The shadow stood half inside the room and half on the terrace watching as the door burst open and a rush of guards entered the room. The guards had time enough to register the man at the terrace and to look up at their master, bleeding and stuck to the wall, when, with a narrowing of the assassin’s glowing red eyes, the fat man’s torso erupted - sending blood, skin, organs and innards flying about the room, covering everyone with gore. With a slight bow of his head, the clawed shadow disappeared into the night.

 

FLASH!

 

With a deluge of power, Nicholas was sucked backwards, up through the golden vortex and no amount of strength of will could stop this “Ejection” from the vision in the chalice. He came back to his body and found himself standing over the Chalice as he had started out, the golden glow in the chalice slowly dimming to nothing. Several seconds went by as Nicholas stood; his hands on the chalice, trying to reconcile what he had borne witness to, for surely he was witnessing something that had happened, is happening or would happen in the future. Then he noticed the acolyte and two more senior clerics standing near him as if ready to catch him should he fall. Though slightly light headed with vertigo, he straightened his back and waved off his clergy. He needed to think about this.